Play Along(129)

“Shut the fuck up, Kennedy.”

“I didn’t say anything,” I laugh.

“Well, you better have said yes.”

“Of course I said yes. I went in there with this whole plan. I was going to quit, apply to some local colleges, and wait for one of the other pro teams in the city to have an opening. But now . . . now I don’t have to.”

He exhales in disbelief and I get to watch as every realization dawns on him.

“You’re staying here.”

“I am.”

“We get to work together. Travel together.”

“We do.”

“And you love me.”

“So much.”

That grin grows.

“But I swear, Isaiah, if you ever bring me divorce papers again, I’ll be real tempted to sign them with something other than an I love you.”

We both know that’s far from the truth. Even though this marriage was supposed to be temporary and I wanted to separate as soon as we woke up that morning in Vegas, I couldn’t imagine that idea now.

His smile turns sheepish. “Is staying married really what you want though? We can start from the beginning, rewrite our story. We can still be together without being married. I can call you my girlfriend if you’re not ready to be my wife.”

“Can’t I be both?”

“What?” he says with a laugh.

“I don’t want to rewrite anything. I want to date you while already loving you. I want to learn about you while already knowing you’re the one. I know we skipped a few relationship milestones, but there are no rules that say we can’t be married while we go back and check them off.”

“Yeah. I like that idea.” He drapes his arms over my shoulders. “There’s been a certain milestone on my mind lately. We’re married and you still don’t live with me.”

“That is a big one.”

His eyes go soft with a smile. “What do you say, wifey? Will you move in with me?”

There’s no question regarding where we should live between his place and mine. His has felt like home since the moment I first walked through the front door.

“Yes,” I agree. “I’d live, laugh, love to.”

Chuckling, he brings me flush to his chest, lips dusting my forehead when he speaks.

“Thanks for marrying me, baby.”

“It was the best mistake I ever made.”

The bathroom door swings open, instantly shifting our attention. Reese walks in, eyes cast down on her phone, heading straight for a stall.

We look at each other, wondering what the hell to do, before Isaiah clears his throat to get her attention. Apparently, it only took the man three years to learn to make his presence known when he’s busy hiding in the women’s restroom.

“Oh,” she startles, her attention bouncing between Isaiah and me. “I’m sorry. I’m clearly interrupting something.”

“We’ll go,” I suggest, pulling out of Isaiah’s hold, both of us headed for the door.

She’s halfway into a stall before she stops and turns, looking right back at us. “Sorry, but this is so strange, seeing someone else in here. I usually come down to this bathroom by the clubhouse for privacy. All these months of it being empty, I started considering it mine.”

Isaiah and I share a knowing look, stupidly mischievous smiles on our lips.

“By the way, Kennedy,” Reese continues. “I was going to come find you. I requested a name change on your new office door. It should say Dr. Rhodes by the end of the week.”

“Dr. Kay,” Isaiah corrects. “It should say Dr. Kay. She did that all on her own, long before me or my last name came around.”

I squeeze his hand in mine. “Actually, Dr. Rhodes is perfect.”

Reese offers me a sweet smile, slipping into a stall.

We leave the bathroom before Isaiah asks, “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” I hold his attention. “Like you said, I don’t care what my name used to be. I only care what it is now.”





Epilogue


Isaiah


Two years later

It’s the worst day of the year.

At least, it used to be.

I used to connect this date to loss, but now I can’t help but think of everything I gained on this day over the years.

My nephew was born four years ago on this date. I met my wife five years ago, and today, I get the privilege of remarrying her on our two-year anniversary.

Yes, I lost my mom on this date, but she spent the last twenty years sending her sons the greatest gifts in her absence, and it’s become impossible to think of this day with anything other than overwhelming gratitude and love.

“How are you feeling?” my brother asks from behind me as he helps me slip on my suit jacket.

“Excited. I’m looking forward to remembering everything this time around. Her walking down the aisle. Listening to her say ‘I do.’ Coherently, might I add.”

He laughs to himself.

Kennedy didn’t want to deviate too much from the details of our first wedding, but the biggest difference with this one, other than the lack of tequila in our systems, is the intention behind it.

We’re getting married because we love each other, trust each other, are each other’s closest friend. We spent the last two years learning each other, dating each other, and supporting each other. And even though I’m stoked to create some memories this time around, I can’t help but be grateful for that drunken night in this same city two years ago.